It was always the ambition of Mr. Richard Hardie to be an accomplished financier. For some years past he had studied money at home and abroad--scientifically. His father's connection had gained him a footing in several large establishments abroad, and there he sat and worked _en amateur_ as hard as a clerk. This zeal and diligence in a young man of independent means soon established him in the confidence of the chiefs, who told him many a secret. He was now in a great London bank, pursuing similar studies, practical and theoretical. He received his father's letters sketching the rapid decline of the bank, and finally a short missive inviting him down to consider an enlarged plan of business. During the four days that preceded the young man's visit, more than one application came to Hardie senior for advances on scrip, cargoes coming from Mexico, and joint personal securities of good merchants that were in the current ventures. Old Hardie now, instead of refusing, detained the proposals for consideration. Meantime, he ordered five journals daily instead of one, sought information from every quarter, and looked into passing events with a favorable eye. The result was that he blamed himself, and called his past caution timidity. Mr. Richard Hardie arrived and was ushered into the bank parlor. After the first affectionate greetings old Skinner was called in, and, in a little pompous, good-hearted speech, invited to make one in a solemn conference. The compliment brought the tears into the old man's eyes. Mr. Hardie senior opened, showed by the books the rapid decline of business, pointed to the rise of two new banks owing to the tight hand he had held unseasonably, then invited the other two to say whether an enlarged system was not necessary to meet the times, and submitted the last, proposals for loans and discounts. “Now, sir, let me have your judgment.” “After my betters, sir,” was old Skinner's reply. “Well, Dick, have you formed any opinion on this matter?” “I have, sir.” “I am extremely glad of it,” said the old gentleman, very sincerely, but with a shade of surprise; “out with it, Dick.” The young man thus addressed by his father would not have conveyed to us the idea of “Dick.” His hair was brown; there were no wrinkles under his eyes or lines in his cheek, but in his manner there was no youth whatever. He was tall, commanding, grave, quiet, cold, and even at that age almost majestic. His first sentence, slow and firm, removed the paternal notion that a cipher or a juvenile had come to the council-table. “First, sir, let me return to you my filial thanks for that caution which you seem to think has been excessive. There I beg respectfully to differ with you.” “I am glad of it, Dick; but now you see it is time to relax, eh?” “No, sir.” The two old men stared at one another. The senile youth proceeded: “That some day or other our system will have to be relaxed is probable, but just now all it wants is--tightening.”